how it happened a third time

We did another thing. My target audience (Sharayah) liked the last two times I described us doing the thing, so I did it a third time.

Tuesday, April 30
Sharayah had been telling me for a couple weeks she thought Sebastian might come early. She kept saying the phrase "early labor" kept playing in her mind. Technically we were already full-term, but not yet at the due-date (May 3). Sharayah had tricked me into thinking it was time to go at least twice in the past week or so.

I was done with work for the spring semester except for one last thing. I had to go to the graduation ceremony that night at 6. I know graduation is a special thing and all, but I had been hoping she would start labor before I left so I wouldn't have to go. I didn't even want to sit through my own graduation. They're just so long. At any rate, we hadn't noticed any signs of anything happening, so it looked like I would be going. I got all suited up (faculty wear our graduation regalia as well, so I had my full doctoral robes) and headed out. The arena is about 25 minutes away from home. We figured nothing would be going on, but I kept my phone in my hand so I'd feel it vibrate if Sharayah called.

About 20 minutes in, during a prayer, I felt my phone vibrating. I couldn't answer, so I texted to see if I needed to leave. She said she had some bleeding and couldn't feel the baby move [kp edit: I said I wasn't sure when he last moved, which was completely normal to me since he'd been chilling in there the past couple of weeks with the more subtle movements, and so I was going to try to feel him move, as a reassurance. Clearly, this part of my message did not reassure him. {luB edit: You're right, the phrase "I don't know when he last moved" did not reassure me.}]. Not exactly the way I wanted to get out of graduation. I headed out, hoping not to create too much of a distraction though I was in the third row, and started home. There was torrential rain, so I couldn't call and talk to anyone at home to see what was going on. All I knew was that she had called the midwife, Jessica, and something might be wrong. It was a long 25 minutes.

When I got home, it seemed like things were calmer. Jessica was on her way to check on things, but Sharayah thought everything was ok. She had felt movement and none of the more serious warning signs that could accompany bleeding were there. Our awesome midwife drove to our house to check on Sharayah since it was night and she knew we had kids in bed. She said everything was fine, but labor would probably start soon. We packed our bag (I've mentioned before that we always wait to do this to get the babies to come sooner) and settled in to try to get some sleep. That very stressful hour was probably not worth missing graduation.

Wednesday, May 1
I woke up the next morning and Sharayah had this really serene look on her face. I asked if it was the day, and she gave a calm nod. Apparently her contractions had started between 4 or 5. This would probably be the day. They were only "pansy" contractions (her words, not mine) so far. We went about our day semi-normally. We started trying to prepare the boys for us to miss nap/quiet time (about 1pm). My parents were in town to watch the kids, so we talked the kids through doing their nap or quiet time with them instead of us. Things progressed very slowly. Contractions never seemed to settle into any kind of regular rhythm, and they were still not strong. We went for a walk and she had them every two minutes for about 40 minutes, but they were only 30 seconds long. At other times they were a minute long and 4 to 5 minutes apart. Sometimes they seemed to escalate, but other times they tapered off.

This went on all day and we actually were home to put Finley down for his nap and put Lucas in quiet time. Then we played a board game with my parents to continue waiting. After Lucas came out (around 2:30) but before Finley woke up, the contractions finally seemed to intensify. Sharayah actually had trouble concentrating on the game during contractions. We finally decided to go to the birth center around 3:30. So we didn't miss nap time, but we would miss the boys' bed time.

It's a 5- to 10-minute drive depending on traffic, but from the time we got in the car until we arrived, there were no contractions. It was very puzzling. We waited in the car for a while and still had none. I think Sharayah was getting annoyed by now [kp edit: I WAS VERY ANNOYED]. Was there a baby coming or not? We finally went in and went to the birth room (same one as when Finley was born). I guess she finally had another little contraction. One of the nurses remarked that as we had come in, Sharayah had "seemed awfully happy" to actually be in labor. We got ourselves emotionally prepared to be sent back home to wait for things to pick up again.

They told us we might as well wait a little while to see if contractions started back up. Our midwife, Kari, saw a few other patients (for regular check-ups, we were the only birth happening at the moment) and contractions seemed to pick back up to the lackluster, not at all intense contractions from before [kp edit: a direct quote from Kari's notes at this time - "She does not need to frown or breathe through contractions. She is chatting and playing a game on her phone." I know it sounds ridiculous to be annoyed by it, BUT THIS DID NOT SEEM LIKE LABOR.] A little after 5 pm, Kari thought she might send us home, but just to be sure she checked Sharayah's dilation. She was at 8 cm, which was a complete surprise to us and Kari. Apparently she was just having a stealthy labor so far [kp edit: ninja baby!]. Things weren't moving fast, but evidently they were moving.

Over the next couple hours, the intense contractions finally returned. After such a long day of uncertainty and myriad versions of contractions, the strong ones came on and started to wear on Sharayah [kp edit: "Bring on the real contractions for Pete's sake! Oh. Huh. These are more work. Dislike."]. She got in the tub for a while, and had a lot of tough contractions without feeling like it was pushing time yet. She started getting really tired and just wanting to get on with it. Even after all this time, her water still hadn't broken. There were no concerns about safety, but it did seem like it could be a lot more time of these intense contractions until the water broke. Kari checked on things and said as soon as the water broke it would probably be a matter of minutes until the baby came.

If you know Sharayah, you know she doesn't like medical things and she likes to give birth without any interventions. After many more of these really hard contractions and no water breaking, Sharayah wasn't sure how long she could go without any end in sight. So finally at 7:14 pm, she decided to let them break the water. We had to get out of the tub for that, so we went to the bed and tried to make Sharayah comfortable.

As soon as the water broke, contractions became super intense and it was time to push right away. I could tell Sharayah was worn out, but I kept trying to encourage her that we were almost there. Her little baby was almost out, and she'd get to hold him soon. She was an awesome pusher [kp edit: I need a t-shirt that says this, thanks]. Soon, only 19 minutes after the water broke, Sebastian was born. I thought Sharayah might cry [kp edit: You are correct, sir. But emphasize the might. I am not a crier. My streak stands.]. We were so happy to see our new little guy after wondering all day whether things would ever get moving. It was 7:33 pm.

So, approximately 15 hours after the first contraction [kp edit: such a deceptive number since the first 13 hours were basically normal life annoyingly interrupted by indigestion...], water finally breaking followed immediately by less than a half hour of pushing, we had miracle number three. It was a night and day of uncertainty, but we got our little guy, safe and sound.

Lucas and Finley have handled the transition really well. Lucas has pretty much gone about his business as if nothing has changed. Finley, on the other hand, immediately decided he was a big boy and could do everything on his own. Instantly he doesn't want to be carried or hold hands when walking. Anytime we ask if he wants us to help him with something, he shouts "Me, me!" and does it on his own. He is, however, completely enamored with Sebastian. He loves to look at him, tickle him (his version of tickling is just to very calmly, gently wiggle his chubby fingers on or near the baby and say "tick-a, tick-a" in a tiny little voice), try to hold him, or just say "hi" to him 20 times a day. Lucas and Finley have been playing together almost constantly without too much need for breaking up disagreements. My parents went back home and left us outnumbered, but so far it's actually been easier than when we switched from one kid to two.

Our newest creation.

Dear Sebastian,
Thanks for joining us. You've made things a lot more interesting around here. You and your brothers now outnumber us, so one of us is always watching at least two of you. It's really fun so far to see how you are like Lucas, how you are like Finley, and how you are completely different. We hope you'll all be best buds. I've told your brothers, and I'll tell you, being your dad is the best job I've ever had. The hours are long, the pay is terrible, but my coworker (your mom) is the best and my customers (that's you guys) are adorable. I love you more than life, and sleep, and eating without having to make sure no babies are crying.
Love,
Dad

PS. Please stop poopin' on me.

Sebi's skinny feet next to Finley's chunky ones

ins and outs of four-soon-to-be-five

I wish to document everything. Which is a stressful desire. But I don't want to forget anything. Which is a stressful expectation. Sometimes I do well with lists and journaling and emailing and video-taking and everything feels right with the world. Other times I find my documentation woefully falling through the cracks and I get stuck in a rut of refusing to document anything ever again because what's-the-point-when-I've-missed-a-huge-chunk-of-time-already-and-let-me-just-curl-up-in-a-ball-and-try-to-convince-myself-life-will-go-on. Yes, my brain is dramatic about documenting life.

One of my documenting outlets is to jot down random things in a file on my phone. It pleases me to no end when I finally decide to read through the file and find so many lovely, often context free, gems of life that I probably would have forgotten if not for writing it down. Another perk is that they make for, what I think is, an excellent lazy-man blog post.

So, as hopefully my last post before the arrival of wee one numero 3, here is a glimpse of some more documented life before things get even crazier. And I will begin yet another file of entertaining tidbits.

****************

Lucas, noticing his heart beating after running amok for ten minutes: "I think my heart is doing a tango dance."

Me, reading ports of call to Jason: "San Juan, Puerto Rico, and then Basseterre, St. Kitts, and then-"
Lucas: "You mean, St. Kitts and Nevis."
Me: "What?"
Lucas: "It's not St. Kitts. It's St. Kitts and NEVIS."

Jason: "If I can't find monkeys, do you want poop?"

Me: "That jacket has gross stuff on it too."
Jason: "I  have kids who leak gross stuff on me. What can I do about it?"
Me: "Wash your clothes sometimes."

Lucas, seeing a mermaid: "I saw... a marine girl."

Jason, trying to entertain both boys: "Can you come help?! Lucas needs help with Legos and Finley is getting into everything! I don't know how you do it by yourself!"

Lucas: "When I'm 5, I just might make breakfast for you."

Jason, contemplating his life filled with little half-Asian boys: "There are just all of these people walking around with girls. How do they get girls?"

Me: "Do you think most people have to wander around their house looking for their bra pads?"
Jason: "No, because most people don't let their boys use them as yarmulkes."

Lucas, after going to the bathroom: "And THAT was the pee that I've held since the day before yesterday!"

Jason: "Don't put your face so close to the toilet."
Lucas: "Why not?"
Jason: "Your face has your mouth and nose on it and the toilet is dirty."
Lucas: "But... My mouth eats food and my nose has boogers so they're already dirty."

Lucas: "I'm going to be the next Dr. Seuss!"

Jason: "That's no place to keep nature!"

Lucas: "If I had $300,000... I would buy... presents for you and Daddy and Finley and a lot of other people."

Me: "So! What should we have for Easter dinner?"
Lucas: "We could eat some rabbit."
Me: "Rabbit? It might be really hard to catch the rabbits in our backyard. They're pretty fast."
Lucas: "Well... We don't have to catch them. Maybe we can just eat their meat."

Lucas: "Will tortellini make me big and strong?"

Jason: "I just think it's funny how you're creative."
Me: "That is funny. But how I am creative?"
Jason: "You made the bunny cake."
Me: "...because it's Easter. So, bunny. That's not creative."
Jason: "Yeah but, it was a bunny."

Lucas, running into the bathroom yelling: "Mommy Mommy Mommy! Bad news! Bad news! You have to help Finley!"
Me, trying to pull my pants up quickly: "Okay. Tell me what's wrong. What happened?"
Lucas: "It's such bad news! Finley is being squeezed by a boa constrictor!!"
Me: "Seriously? I thought it was something bad that had really happened, Lucas."
Lucas: "Well, I didn't say it was an EMERGENCY."

The unexpected drawback of getting your son Day of the Week underwear: every time he wants to verify what pretend day it is, he pulls down his pants to check the day. Moral of the story: Don't ask him what day it is in public.

My life the past few weeks:
Me: *goes pee* *brushes teeth* *sits on bed* "Ugh, I need to pee again."
Jason: "Babe, seriously?"
Me: "This is all your fault."

Layers

Lucas and Finley are almost ready to have a complete conversation. Finley only says about 35 words (at least, only 35 words where it's clear what he is saying and we know he knows what it means), but he has been very enthusiastic about trying to combine them in different ways to express his meaning. He was slow to start talking, but once he decided that words were good carriers for messages, he has been trying to say as much as he can with the few words he has. Lucas is also really interested in trying to parse Finley's gibberish. He's always making (sometimes outlandish, sometimes surprisingly accurate) interpretations for Finley. It's as though they're playing some sort of encryption golf, where on person has to encode as long a message as possible in as few words as possible, and the other person has to reconstruct the message.

It's not always easy. Yesterday, Finley was carrying a green car and a blue car around when I noticed he needed a diaper change. I put him on the mat and he evidently dropped the blue one. He was looking at the green one for a minute or so, when suddenly he said, "Boo, bees! (blue, please!)" I would know either of those words from him separately, but together I was a little puzzled at first. Uh, why is he saying... that? Since I didn't give him the blue car, he grew more insistent: "Blue, please. Blue, please, blue please. BLUE PLEASE. BLUE PLEASE! BLUE PLEASE BLUE PLEASE BLUE PLEASE!!" Why is he shouting that? Then I realized what two words he was actually saying, remembered he recently had a blue car, and gave it to him.

We're really hoping Lucas and Finley become good buddies for each other in the coming months. They get along fine now, but they are going to be getting less interaction from us for a while, so hopefully they will entertain each other. They've already made some progress in that direction. Lucas reads books to Finley. They play with cars together. They hide in tents together. Finley still wants everything exactly his way and doesn't know why that isn't what everyone else wants. Lucas often wants to do things without a baby stomping around, knocking everything down, and mixing everything up. But in between all of that, the number of times we suddenly realize that neither of us is watching either of them, and we walk into the other room to see them entertaining each other one way or other, has been steadily increasing. It's always really sweet and encouraging.

Each little fellow we make opens up a whole new layer of love in our home. You always think you are already loving as much as you possibly can. Then another person comes along that you love with your whole self, somehow without taking anything away from the other people you love with your whole self. Our little family keeps growing together and growing larger. We're now above average (well, curiosity got me and I googled it. Apparently the average number of children has been below 2 since 1978, so we were already above average...). It's a lot of love, joy, and sleeplessness for one house. We can't wait (well, maybe a little longer) to add the next layer.

the third one

So here we are. That is, here I am with my soon-to-be-evacuated-in-less-than-six-weeks freeloader kumquat. I figure it's time to devote one post to this squirmer, and what better time to do it than at the point where you simultaneously want him out out out as much as you want him to stay in longer because tooooo sooon noooot ready. That point of pregnancy is apparently at 34 weeks. Because here we are.

So! Here are some pregnancy stats!

Overall: Excellent. Really, nothing to truly complain about. I'm enjoying this pregnancy a good bit, just in comparison to Finley's go around. Last time was much more symptom-y and this time, with the exception of the food aversions and slight fatigue early on, I have felt great and normal most days. Even the dreaded glucose test went as well as can be expected, in so many ways, and was definitely the "best" one to date. I have a lot to be grateful for.

Time: Baby boy #3, week 34.4. This marks 1,919 consecutive days of either growing a person inside of me or nursing a person outside of me or simultaneously both. Seeing as Jason and I have been married for 3,971 days, that is nearly half of our married life. Poor Jason.

Weight: At our week 31 appointment, I was up 16 pounds. This is pretty much on par with my weight gain with Finley, though I am starting 2 pounds heavier than I did with Finley, so... Basically I feel like a whale and since I carry most [all?] of the weight in my stomach, I feel like I look like a whale. Or like this orangutan.

When I compared myself to this orangutan, all Jason had to say is, "You don't know that orangutan is even pregnant." 😐

Height: Still the same. Still waiting on my growth spurt.

Length: Of what?

Problematic pregnancy side effects: Sometimes I need a good shove to sit up in bed. If I try to sit straight up from lying down without turning onto my side or getting a hand from Jason, I now experience the phenomenon Jason refers to as "turtling." Basically, picture a turtle who has fallen on his back and is struggling to right himself. I now wake up at least once a night to go to the bathroom. My stomach enters the room a good 0.4 seconds before the rest of me. Reading books with the boys in my lap is downright uncomfortable.

Movement: This baby is a mover and shaker. Or more like somersault-er and roil-er. At our last appointment he was not head down so I've really been giving him pep talks to get a move on it, to quit partying in there and get [head] down to business. I don't know if he's listening. I think he has his music on too loud.

Foods: I'm all about the fruit right now, particularly oranges. Lucas and Finley also happen to be all about the fruit as well, particularly oranges. Boundaries have been drawn. Discontentment has been expressed on both sides. We manage to still love each other.

Things I'm looking forward to: Not poking my stomach with counter corners. Lying down on my stomach. Bending over to pick something up instead of squatting. Seventeen less bathroom trips each day. Having the boys use me as a jungle gym without grunting and groaning about the all the knees and elbows digging into me. Eating a meal without wondering if I'm going to regret it. And, most of all, HAVING A SQUISHY BABY TO CUDDLE.

Baby preparation: We bought a new onesie for him, does this count? He will have a clothing item all of his own that does not have Lucas or Finley liquids embedded in the threads. I think that's prime living for the third child! We have literally done nothing else in tangible getting-ready tasks. The problem is, I'm not entirely sure what all we actually need to do. It feels wrong but maybe that's just the natural progression of things as you have each new kid. I guess we will find out once he pops his head out what we've overlooked. Whoops.

So, there you have it. Things really have been flying along. We are counting down the days until Jason's summer break [because who doesn't like Dado home ALL THE TIME FOR THREE MONTHS 🎉], but then we realize once again that his Summer Break Relaxation Break countdown is the same exact countdown as the Three Kiddo Craziness countdown. His last work-related task is on April 30th and the kumquat is due May 3rd. That's a tight squeeze right there. I can't believe we have less than 6 weeks left...

the man who makes all this possible

if you give a boy a camera...

Today, something incredible happened and I absolutely have to document it with a post.

       

Lucas has an old point and shoot camera that he fills with crooked, washed out, super close up pictures of feet and random parts of the ceiling and piles of toys on the floor. There are pictures of backs of heads, garbage cans, and unrecognizable shapes that may or may not be parts of people. There are pictures of pictures, pictures of corners of pictures, and pictures of half of me taking pictures. I have a folder on my computer called Lucas's Artography that is filled with literally thousands of Lucas's artistic/accidental/purposefully wonky captures. It's a treasure trove of What Is This?/Should I Even Take Up Space On My Computer With This One. I love it so much.

Tonight Lucas rediscovered his camera, after months of neglect on my part to recharge its battery. Whoops. So, I'm in the kitchen and I hear Lucas say, "Finley, go over to the blue chair." It was said in his classic Oldest Brother tone of voice - the very bossy, kinda demanding tone of voice that Finn doesn't always respond well to. But as I look over and am about to tell Lucas to perhaps ask Finley in a nicer way, in order to increase his chances of Finley listening to him, I see Finley walking over to the blue chair, turning around, and... posing as Lucas clicks off a picture of him. 

What.

As soon as the picture is taken, Finley walks back over to Lucas, who shows him the picture on the camera. The two of them show their approval of their shot, and then Lucas issues his next command. "Finley, go over to the big chair." Finley goes to the specified place, turns around, poses for the picture, and comes back to Lucas to assess their shot. 

What.

They do this over and over and over. Go to the green chair. The ball. The slide. The table. The black chair. The piano. The rails. It was absolutely amazing. They were so focused and serious and adorable and working as a well-oiled photography team. It was hilarious. And so sweet. And I am so gushy about it because watching them play like this made me feel all the feels. All of them. 

I love being their mom. I love watching them grow and learn and love. I cannot describe how fulfilling it is to be their mom. Sometimes I start to get lost in the raising of them and I forget to simply cherish them. And then nights like tonight happen and I'm oh so clearly reminded of how amazingly blessed I am to get to be around these munchkins every single day. They are so special and unique, and they're mine. Life is so good.

I feel this post would be incomplete without some of the actual pictures that Lucas took of model Finley. So without further ado...

so natural

just passing by

leg popped

who, me?

just a boy and his bear and his toys

your classic don't-make-eye-contact shot

even a professional can't always nail the focus and timing

you can hire this model for two "bapple" slices

How amazing are those, right? They make a great team.

And lastly, a video. Of some of the going-ons. It is my favorite video of all time. You should go watch it. It's a must see.

the milk and bean connection

Nineteen months. For nineteen months, Finley nursed between two and a baker's dozen times a day. For nineteen months, Finley and I would stare at each other in an unspoken contest of "No, I love you more." I can't speak for the bonding that occurs for the baby, but the bonding that occurs for the mom during these moments is one-of-a-kind. I count myself as immeasurably blessed that I was able to nurse Lucas for twenty-seven months [until I was 3 months pregnant with Finley] and Finley for nineteen months [until I was 6 months pregnant with this kumquat].

I knew when we were planning on our third wee one that most likely this would mean not nursing Finley for a full two years like I wanted to. I know that some moms are able to keep their supply up and their baby interested in the ever changing tastes of the milk during pregnancy, but I knew that was not a guarantee. I knew it was likely that this pregnancy would be a natural catalyst for weaning Finley. And I know it sounds ridiculous, but this was definitely one of the big "well, maybe we should hold off for a while longer then" issues for me. But we decided to go with it anyway and I just knew I needed to treasure each nursing session throughout this pregnancy as I would never know which time would be the last. 

The last time he would pat my chest approvingly as he happily sucked away.

The last time he would try to grab my hair dangling in his face.

The last time he would curl his ice cold hands in the oh so warm space between our bellies. 

The last time he would enthusiastically clap after drinking his fill.
The last time he would somehow manage to giggle and grin all without losing his latch.

The last time.

And yet the last time came and I can't say I was 100% ready for it. In some ways I was ready. Because, just realistically, the further along I got in this pregnancy and the bigger my stomach grew and the older/stronger/wigglier Finley became, the more difficult/bothersome/tiring it was to get those daily nursing sessions in. So yes, in some ways, I was ready to be done and I had to fight the guiltiness that came with feeling ready. But honestly? I didn't want to be done. I wanted to give him two years of me and him moments. I wanted him to be my baby for just that much longer. I wanted to delay this seemingly irrational "he no longer needs me" melancholy.

I know it's silly to feel like he no longer needs me. I know he hasn't "needed" the milk for a while. And I fully know, trust me, that he does indeed need me in every other way [he needs me to put on his hat right now, dance with him right now, pick up that piece of fuzz right now before it moves again, make him his lunch bowl before he starves to death, etc]. But it's all part of this mom business, this weird moment of grieving that your baby cannot be attached to you [both literally and figuratively] as much as you want for as long as you want. They need to grow. They have to grow. And there's nothing you can do about it but mourn in the moment and learn to embrace the never-stopping future.

So for now I'll allow myself a good cry, some irrational thoughts, and some extra chocolate. And then I have a little less than three months until the new little kumquat arrives in all his squishy, milk-sucking, literally-needs-all-the-things baby glory and I'll strap in for the crazy ride of three little boys.

We were discussing things we needed to do before May at dinner the other day [ie. everything] and this gem of an exchange happened:

Me: "I need to make big batches of black beans and put them in the freezer for when the baby comes."

Lucas: "Yeah, and when the baby comes, you need to make BIG batches of milk in your boobs!"

I have taken care of the big batches of beans [thank you, instant pot] and our freezer is a bean haven just waiting to be plundered post-baby. And now, thanks to Finley, I will begin work on the big batches of milk for the kumquat in May. So life strolls along as it should.

my little milk baby [he brought this upon himself, promise]

new year, new post

I have simple desires and I'm not a very ambitious person. While this admittedly sometimes has a negative side [ie. the daily state of my house], it really works for me when it comes to the first day of a new year and all of the ever optimistic resolution making that often goes along with it. Some may call it aiming low - I call it setting myself up for success.

Goals/resolutions/fingers-crossed hopes for 2019:

• Cook some napa cabbage
• Lotion my hands more
• Easily slide another human being out of my uterus
• Write another post before May
• Teach a 4-year-old to wipe his own bottom
• Eat at a new restaurant
• Read 100 mediocre books
• More spaghetti nights
• Let Jason dust the house once this year
• Teach 1-year-old to say something. Anything. 
• Resist buying more wrapping paper

Stretch goals for 2019:

• Transition from hand washing dishes to using a dishwasher
• Trick my kids into liking eggs
• Increase my showered-to-unshowered days ratio
• Embrace the present
• Focus on gratitude

goodbye 2018 - hello year of how-is-it-almost-2020

Some things I am not good at

Some things I am evidently not good at:

• Writing regular blog posts. The last one I wrote that was not part of the 10-year anniversary series was when Finley was born.
• Phone surgery. The battery in my phone died (really died, as in full-charge-lasts-4-minutes dead), and as with many recent phones it was not accessible. For my particular phone, the only way to access the battery is to:
• Use a heat gun to melt the adhesive holding the screen on.
• Use a suction cup to pull said screen off.
• Use special phone repair tools to disconnect the screen from the circuit board.
• Unscrew about 20 tiny screws.
• Pop out the big metal thing covering the battery and circuit board.
• Replace the battery
• Reverse all that, except the adhesive, which is melted.
• Use special super thin tape phone repair adhesive to reattach the screen.
You can watch someone do it correctly here. I actually thought it had gone well, since I didn't crack the screen (the most common mistake in the process, apparently), but once it was all hooked up again the screen no longer worked. It was pretty disappointing. The battery worked, though! I did that part right. The phone can now last all day. It can receive texts and calls. You just can't see or answer them. Or do anything else.
To punish myself for this failure, I have been using family members' old phones since August. I have my dad's old iPhone 4S and my brother's old Samsung Galaxy S3. They are from late 2011 and early 2012, respectively. I have learned a great deal of patience.
• Growing head hair. This just goes without saying.

Things I am thankful for:

• My lovely wife.
• My two silly boys.
• The new little kumquat on the way.
• The rest of my awesome family (the ones who don't live at my house).
• All of my material needs are met.
• Most of my material wants are met. I even got a good Black Friday deal on a new phone.

aging

Fall is upon us. I approve of this. Time keeps chugging along.

Speaking of time, Jason is now the ripe old age of 33. I always enjoy the seven month period where he is a whole number older than me. He continues to improve on his crotchety old man-isms in keeping with his lifelong dream of one day owning a rocking chair and cane and handing out tiny bags of pebbles to small children who dare ring the bell of our unlit house on October 31st. He likes to think that, despite that, he will be able to keep up with all the tech and gadgets of the youths of 2050. However, since he's already writing off so many things these days as things not worth his time [read: any piece of tech that seems silly to him and every social media platform newer than Facebook], I fear he is destined to the same inevitable fate of everyone else who reaches the 65-year-old mark: technological obsolete-ism. It's okay, love, I'll be right there with you and we will be blissfully content with our outdated device/knowledge and only a little bit bitter about how we ended up in the exact place we promised we would never be.

Sometimes I feel like I need to make an actual effort to stay connected with the times [how old does this make me sound? ugh]. I do eat avocado on toast, but I've done that for two decades. I try not to grimace when I'm in a store playing pop music. I even joined Instagram a long, long while ago, but then I never did anything with the account because I got overwhelmed by how pushy and creeper-ish it felt to go and "follow" people without them expressing interest in being followed by me. Sometimes I open up the app. I get up the gumption and decide to give it one more go. But then I see the tiled page of random pictures and videos of strangers I don't know/don't care to know and realize I'm still not ready. I'll get there one day. My pre-33rd-birthday bucket list: Be brave and follow more than 2 people on Instagram. Take that, my crotchety self!

Moving on down the line, we come to Lucas. Now, talk about a kid who is older than his years. This kid. He keeps growing and maturing and amazing us with his sheer awesomeness. Among the things I find most impressive about him is all the things he can do with a writing utensil. He loves to write and draw. We gave him a notebook to doodle in anytime he's in his room and it is a treasure trove of awesome. It has hand drawn maps of countries, street maps, art, connect the dot pictures, color by number pictures, random musings, and keys and legends galore. It is amazing. I love getting a glimpse inside of his quirky little mind! His handwriting and spelling seem so beyond a just barely 4-year-old. He can write small and neatly, or big and kid-like. He likes to spell everything correctly [he can spell legit words like excitement and scratching and everybody and jumper and meanwhile and birthday... and the list goes on] but also loves to make up new words in other languages. I taught him how to play Hangman the other day and gave him easy words like "Big Bear" and "pickle." And then on his turn he did "asaot" which apparently is "a made-up Chinese word that means lizard" and "T'dontengi" which, obviously, means "help" in "made-up Indian." What am I supposed to do with that? I love my boy so much.

Finley is his own little man. He is 16 months of energy and grunts and drool. He loves dancing if he even suspects there might be something musical in the air. He cannot get enough of Lucas, which Lucas enjoys 10% of the time, tolerates 30% of the time, and gets annoyed by 60% of the time. He is much rougher than Lucas, though this may just be the lack of awareness that comes with being a baby. We will see how that plays out. I suspect it will continue on as it has been going... I find it interesting how much Lucas as a baby has translated to Lucas as a kid, and I am quite looking forward to seeing if this will be the case for Finley. Because, if so, our house is going to be SO lively. Finley is not making much effort in the talking arena. He is in a really awesome book phase. He thinks the only kind of bear is a panda bear and does not recognize a normal old brown bear as a bear. He is obsessed with food right now. He is still pretty lacking in the hair department and every other day I find Jason sadly/encouragingly stroking Finn's hair, quietly coaxing/asking it to grow more. A dad and his boy, bonding over their under performing hair follicles...

So, this is us. We're all getting older and whatnot. Life continues to happen even when blog posts don't. Go figure.

summer conversations

It has officially been forever since our last post. Summer got away from us. Apologies.

Now I'm left with the ever so sticky conundrum of how to best go about blogging again. After such a long absence, should I "catch up" with everything that has occurred since our last post? Or should I pretend that there hasn't been a giant gap and post as if all of our summer--ing is already known? Or... should I just list off a bunch of quotes I've collected and call it a day? Yeah, let's go with option 3. Good plan, me.

Only one statue
*An image of the Christ the Redeemer statue in Brazil pops up on a TV at Costco*
Me: "Hey, Lucas, who do you think that is a statue of?"
Lucas: "...Liberty?"

No groove
Lucas: "Why don't you know how to boogie?"

Life truth
Jason, summing up conversation 3,824 about making good choices: "When you're an adult, your whole life is your consequence."

Outlook
Lucas: "Every day is a brand new story." ❤️

Medieval
Jason: "There are no exciting transport solutions except trebuchets."

Sympathy
Lucas, sadly: "I just wish Daddy had hair."
Me: "Why?"
Lucas: "Because Daddy does."

Culinary genius
Lucas: "I made a restaurant. It sells pizza and hand burgers."
Me: "Hand burgers..?"
Lucas: "Yes. Hand burgers."
Me: "Why do you think they're called hand burgers?"
Lucas: "Because you eat them with your hands..?"

Progeny
Me, bemoaning yet another baby mentally heading off to college (read: learning how to walk): "What will I do when I don't have any more babies??"
Lucas: "Well, you, you could just have a tenth baby."

Applesauce cake
Me: "So, did you enjoy your dinner?"
Lucas: "Yes, yes, I did."
Me: "What was your favorite part?"
Lucas: "Well, um, it was all pretty tasty, but yeah, the cake. Definitely the cake."

Bowing
Me: "I love how Finley nods all the way down to his waist."
Jason: "Well, he IS Asian."

Baby geography
Finley: *sounds like he says the word rabbit*
Lucas: "Finley said 'rah-bot'!"
Me: "Yeah, it did sound like he said rabbit!"
Lucas: "No, not RAB-bit. Rah-BOT. The capital of Morocco."

Friendship
Lucas: "Big Bear and Big Lion are best friends even though they're different."

Self-awareness
Jason: "I wouldn't have been a very good 17th century woman."

Perspective
Lucas: "Big Bear, when you touch me, it makes me feel like I have fur too."

AND MY ALL-TIME FAVORITE QUOTE...
Lucas: "Wouldn't it be funny if the meat chicken and the animal chicken were the same thing?" [I cannot remember what I told him because I was just dying laughing.]

So there you have it. Bits and pieces of our summer. Jason is now back at it with math-ing his students and trying to lovingly bring his lawn back to life. Lucas is creating his own street maps, color by number pictures, and dot-to-dots. Finley is pointing at everything, trying to climb everything with his still-too-stumpy legs, and absolutely refusing to say mama. I am trying to be more organized [HA] and that is taking all of my time and energy so that's about it for me. Oh! And I grew a tomato. And! I gave both boys a bath today all by myself. First time ever. Don't laugh at me - I feel so responsible and productive. I am pretty impressed with Mom-Me.

Life is in a really good groove right now. The boys are at fun, pretty easy ages. Jason's semester is as ideal as one could wish for. We have a lot of dance parties. And Fall is right around the corner. Life is good.

I need to go put some sweet potatoes in the oven.

brotherly choke hugs